


Making Deals with the Devil

by nomothematic



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Little bit of angst, M/M, hockey demons are so real and this is so real, the most dramatic man alive, the relationships aren't really big
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomothematic/pseuds/nomothematic
Summary: Everyone in the hockey world had jokes about the hockey gods and the superstitions of the league, it was as integral to hockey as giving your teammates shit. Hockey demons no matter how ridiculous it sounded, were an entirely different story. There was an unspoken agreement within the league to not talk about them in any arena, despite the overall opinion that of course hockey demons don’t exist, who would be crazy enough to believe that?





	1. Desperation for a Teammate

Everyone in the hockey world had jokes about the hockey gods and the superstitions of the league, it was as integral to hockey as giving your teammates shit. Hockey demons, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, were an entirely different story. There was an unspoken agreement within the league to not talk about them in any arena, despite the overall opinion that _of course_ _hockey demons don’t exist, who would be crazy enough to believe that_?

Tyler didn’t mean to stumble against the wall in the hallway, but he had _definitely_ over drank with Diaz and a number of Habs. Many of the guys hadn’t been invited to play on the 2012 All Star Fantasy draft team, but nothing was stopping them from hanging out and partying. He sunk down to his ass, trying to stop the swaying room, when he heard a voice from the door to his left.

“You piece of sh-” Tyler eyes widened as he heard Danny Brière’s voice. Why the fuck was he in a supply closet? “I _have_ to, he needs-“

There was a snort of laughter from whoever else was in the room that sent a shiver down Tyler’s spine as it cut off Danny’s voice, “Are you sure its worth it Brière?”

Tyler squinted, trying to place the voice that sounded just on the edge of familiar. He heard a snarl from Danny, before his voice went hard, “ _Fuck you._ We don’t have a choice.”

Tyler blinked as he heard the low chuckle once more before every light in the hallway went out with a click, followed by a low hiss and a stream of curses in Danny’s native tongue cutting off into a hoarse shout. Tyler tried to stand, but found himself plastered into place. A deep panic had set into Tyler’s veins when suddenly the lights popped back on. He staggered upwards and over to the door, raising his hand to knock. Before he could lay a hand on the wood, the door opened, revealing Danny, white faced and sweating.

“What the fuck are you doing here Seguin?”

Tyler frowned at the man, surprised at the venomous tone of his voice, “Are you okay? I heard another voice- wait man you look fucked up.”

Danny let his breath out slowly and cradled his quickly bruising wrist to his chest, “I’m fine.”

Tyler reached out to touch his shoulder, but Danny just stumbled backwards, “You don’t look so good. Who was in there with you?”

“ _Nobody,_ ” Tyler jumped slightly at the harsh tone of the other man. Stepping backwards, he raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, whatever man. Do you need help getting back to your room?”

Danny hesitated before nodding, “Uh, yeah. Claude isn’t here yet, so yes. I’d appreciate that.”

The walk down the hall was slow and draped in uneasy silence. As they reached Danny’s door, Tyler reached out to steady the suddenly swaying man, “Hey, how about I help you get into your room man?” 

Danny sighed but let himself be bullied into the room and onto the bed, snorting as Tyler tried to tip a glass of water to his mouth. “Grab the whisky please.”

Tyler raised his eyebrow slightly, but followed the command. After Danny had taken a large gulp, Tyler set the glass down and dropped next to Danny on the edge of the bed.

“Brière, what happened?”

Danny closed his eyes, before speaking lowly, “Do you believe in all the superstitions of the league?”

Tyler snorted slightly, thinking of his weird pre-game routines, “Well duh, don’t we all have our own?”

“Do you believe in the hockey gods?”

Tyler paused for a second, before cautiously answering, “Yes.”

There was silence, long enough for Tyler to suddenly feel uneasy, when Danny finally spoke again, so quiet Tyler had to lean in to hear him, “Do you believe in demons Seguin?”

Tyler’s eyes widened. He stared at the other man in shock, before trying to casually laugh the comment off, “That’s just a myth dude.”

Danny’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he reached out, snagging Tyler’s forearm in a vice like grip for someone with a damaged wrist, which _wait wasn’t Giroux the one with broken wrists?_

“ _Never lose that thought_.”

Tyler opened his mouth to reply when Danny slumped back against the pillow, dropping into a daze. After a few moments, Tyler stood and fled the room. He pulled the door shut behind him, leaning against it and taking in a few deep breaths. Suddenly his phone went off, sending him a foot in the air in fright. 

_Chara: where are you man_

_Tyler: just getting some air headed back to the bar now_

Closing his eyes, Tyler let out a slow breath, before pushing off the wall and heading back to the bar.

 

The next morning Tyler woke up to a pounding headache and someone pounding on his door. Stumbling upwards Tyler tripped over his bag, cursing loudly as he threw the door open. Claude Giroux stood on the other side, grinning with an eyebrow cocked, “Long night Seguin?”

Tyler’s mind flashed back to him attempting to drink until he forgot what happened, making him grimace, “Something like that.”

Claude dropped the grin and cleared his throat, “Can I come in?”

Tyler shuffled backwards awkwardly, letting the man walk in. The minute the door shut, Claude rounded on him, snapping out “What did Danny do?”

Tyler closed his eyes and breathed out heavily, “Look, I don’t-“

Claude cut him off by pushing him backwards roughly, making Tyler stumble back against the door before barking out, “What the _fuck_ man?”

There was a pause before two things clicked in Tyler’s mind: Danny had been cradling his wrists last night and Claude’s wrist injuries suddenly, obviously, weren’t a problem.

“I see you see. I also see you know something.”

Tyler scratched the back of his head, still against the door, “Look, I didn’t _see_ anything.” 

Claude crossed his arms over his chest, “Tyler. What did Danny do?”

“I don’t know, _I don’t know for sure_ -“ Tyler snapped out as Claude opened his mouth to speak again, “I don’t- He was talking to someone in a supply closet and it didn’t sound friendl-“ 

Tyler cut himself off groaning as his head started pounding again, making Claude sigh heavily and drop down on the bed, head in his hands. Stumbling over to his bag, Tyler pulled out a couple of painkillers and a bottle of water, chugging it until he manage to feel a little better. 

“Danny believes in all that spirit shit. He likes to say the _hockey gods_ brought us together.”

Tyler’s head snapped up, meeting Claude’s hard stare, “Yeah, we’re together.” 

“Uh, Congratulations? I don’t-What does this have to do with what happened?”

The man shot Tyler another dark look before it clicked, “Oh! Whatever man, I’m gay so lik- It’s fine. I don’t-“

Claude snorted cutting Tyler off, “Just making sure, but yeah. Danny believes in all that shit. Always has. I don’t, or well, I _didn’t_.” 

Tyler chewed on his lip as he waited for Claude to continue, watching the man close his eyes, “I got there last night and touched his wrist to wake him up. It was like I fucking stabbed him or something, he shot up in bed screaming and-and _apologizing_.” 

Tyler swallowed heavily, wordlessly handing another water bottle to Claude. The man silently took it and gulped back a few mouthfuls before continuing, “Before I could wake him up, he was babbling about _hockey demons_ , which _what the fuck_?” 

“I don’t-“ Tyler tried to start, but Claude quickly spoke over him, “Tyler, what did he do?”

Tyler let out a slow breath, “I don’t know, but- I think you do.”

Claude closed his eyes at the words, letting out a long breath, before standing, “Thanks man, for making sure he got back home safe. He remembered that.”

Tyler just shrugged awkwardly, waiting until Claude closed the door behind him to flop back down on his bed. Letting out a slow breath, Tyler snorted, speaking aloud, “What the fuck.”


	2. Desperation for Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s not really what you should be worried about. Let’s talk about what you’re willing to give?”
> 
> “No, what the fuck-“ was quickly followed by a loud thump.
> 
> “Focus on the task, Benn.”

Tyler sat down in the locker room, relishing in the quiet calm before the game tomorrow. He went through each play, each plan in his mind. His first season with the Stars had been nothing but an uphill battle and they were crawling into a wild card spot. He closed his eyes, the team had accepted they most likely wouldn’t make it to even semi-finals, but they were hell-bound to make it to playoffs. To give Dallas a reason to celebrate again. Tyler reached for his stick, wanting to get on the ice earlier than anyone, when he suddenly heard an eerily familiar voice from the showers. 

“I didn’t expect this so _early_ _Captain_.”

A shiver went down Tyler’s spine as he remember the last place he heard this voice, plastered in the hallway outside a supply closet.

“I don’t- _it’s you_?” The low chuckle drifted from the showers, making Tyler freeze. 

“It is, but don’t go thinking you can share this at the end of this bargain with anyone who hasn’t called.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand.”

“That’s not really what you should be worried about. Let’s talk about what you’re willing to give?”

“No, what the _fuck_ -“ was quickly followed by a loud thump.

“Focus on the task, Benn.”

There was a silence before Jamie spoke, quiet and small, “What do you want?”

The low laugh filled the room again, “I already have what I want, what is it _you_ want?”

There was a pause before Jamie’s voice, tight and angry, snarled out, “Wait is this- _Is this how you succeed_?” 

A snort filled the room, “We don’t need luck or deals Benn, we’re just _talented_.” 

Tyler heard Jamie sharply inhale at the jab to him and the team in general. In the silence of the rooms, Tyler’s mind finally clicked onto what the said. _Was he a player?_

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what everyone says. You want a cup? Well, what are you willing to give Benny?”

Jamie’s voice dropped, so low Tyler couldn’t hear. The other man’s laugh broke out over the locker room, sharp and pitying, “That’s _cold_ Benn.”

There was a pause, before he heard Jamie quietly speak, “Those are my terms.”

“Perfect. Shake on it?”

Jamie snarled, “Brière still has the fingermarks around his wrists, no matter what he says they are, I’d rather not have to explain those away.”

The same low chuckle echoed through the room, “Everybody gets a mark from this _Benny_. Gotta wear your shame somehow.”

“Fuck you man. I don’t know, my forearm?”

“ _Excellent_.” 

The lights clicked out, throwing Tyler into a panic once again, trying to move with no avail. The darkness lasted longer than last time, making Tyler squeeze his eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of Jamie choking off groans of pain. With a sharp pop, lights filled the room again and Tyler stumbled forward off the bench. He waited a beat, trying to center his head, before jumping forward and headed for the showers. As he stepped into the room he inhaled sharply at the sight of Jamie sitting on the ground in his work out clothing, leaning up against the tile and breathing heavily.

Looking around for another figure and finding no sign, Tyler turned his attention back at the man. “Fuck, Jamie.”

Jamie’s head snapped up at Tyler, pale and drenched in sweat, “Tyler, what are you doing here?”

Tyler reached his side, trying to haul the man up to his feet, only to stop as Jamie hissed lowly as Tyler came into contact with his arm, “ _Fuck._ ” 

Tyler shifted, carefully guiding the man into a stall, before dropping onto the bench in front of him.

“Jamie, what just happened?”

A dark look passed over Jamie’s face, before he dropped his eyes to the ground, “Nothing.”

There was a pause, before Tyler closed his eyes and spoke, “What did you do Jamie?”

Tyler heard Jamie’s sharp inahle, “You could hea-“ the man cut himself off for a moment, before continuing in a quieter voice, “I did what I had to do Tyler.”

“But _why_? I thought-“ Tyler choked on his voice for a moment, causing Jamie to close his eyes.

“Did you hear everything Tyler?”

“No, no-not what you-“ Tyler cut off.

“ _Good._ ” Tyler flinched at the tone of Jamie’s voice, making the other man sigh, “We have practice soon. Think you can help me get up?” 

Tyler nodded silently, getting Jamie into the showers and situation before he walked back into the locker room and sunk down on the bench, flipping his phone open.

_Tyler: does it ever get better_

_Danny B: What the fuck are you doing Tyler?_

_Tyler: not me_

_Danny B: Who._

Closing his eyes, Tyler took a deep breath before replying.

_Tyler: jamie_

_Danny B: For what?_

_Tyler: i don’t know_

_Danny B: Must’ve been something important to him._

_Danny B: And no, the guilt doesn’t._

Tyler pushed the thought out of his mind as the boys descended on the locker room. Tyler watch Jamie’s face throughout the game, as passes didn’t connect and goals bounced off the crossbar. He watched Jamie’s face get darker and darker. Tyler punched the man in the shoulder, garnering himself a dirty look. 

“I’m gonna score next shift man.” Jamie huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes.

Tyler cackled as he turned back to see Jamie’s jaw dropped after the goal horn sounded. The mixture of relief, with an underlying of guilt, made Tyler’s stomach twinge. Flipping back over the boards, he dropped down next to Jamie and dropped another punch on his shoulder, “Told ya.” 

 

After two more losses, bringing them just on the edge of playoffs, Tyler wasn’t surprised to find Jamie standing on his porch, drunk off his ass.

“Come on man, lets get you some water.”

Jamie stumbled forward, dropping down onto the couch, taking the glass from Tyler as he came back from the kitchen.

Tyler reached out to touch Jamie’s shoulder, “Hey, what’s going on?”

“We aren’t fucking _winning_.” 

Tyler sucked in a breath, before carefully speaking, “We’re still on our way to playoffs, what with everyone else losing.” 

There was a silence before Tyler continued, quiet and low, “Technically, that bargain is still being upheld.” 

Jamie shifted forwards, flopping over and dropping onto the couch, with his face into the leather “Aren’t you supposed to _get_ _glory_ when you give it all up?”

Tyler’s hand drifted out to touch Jamie’s forearm, hesitating as Jamie let out a slow breath.

“Does it still hurt?”

Jamie shook is head, closing his eyes, “Hurt isn’t the right word, but yeah, I can still feel it.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Every time we score, it burns.” 

Tyler didn’t mean to snort and Jamie’s incredulous face only made him laugh harder, until Jamie tried to sit up. 

Tyler, though a few last chuckles, pulled him back down, “What are you, a Death Eater?”

After a second, Jamie burst out laughing, “You’re such a fucking loser.”

Tyler watched as Jamie quickly drifted off to sleep, brow furrowing as he watched him drop into a nightmare. Tyler closed his eyes at the sounds and words dripping from Jamie’s mouth and focused on running his fingers through his hair until they calmed.

 

After that evening, it was like an entire new team came to life. They flew into and through playoffs and finals, though not without _standard_ injuries and set backs. Each time a _lucky_ goal went in, Tyler turned to watch Jamie close his eyes in pain. Winning the Western Conference in Game 7 with 4 different goals accepted and then called off leaving the game 5-4 just about killed Jamie, but in the end they came out on top. They were headed to the finals.

Tyler felt like he blinked and they were at the end of Game 7 once more, final buzzer ringing. For a moment the whole team seemed to freeze, until the crowd erupted and the team descended on Jamie. Through the screaming and celebration, Tyler watched for any sign of pain from Jamie, but it wasn’t until the man had lifted the cup above his head and passed it off to Horcoff did he finally turn to face Tyler. The sheer excitement and joy dropped from his face as he paled, suddenly holding his arm. Tyler just reached out to throw an arm around Jamie and pulled him to his side tightly, “It’s still ours man.”


	3. Desperation Backfired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a sharp stream of Russian, mostly curses. The other voice ignored him, “Please tell me you are aware you will get nothing?”
> 
> Alex snarled, “Is this how Canada wins? By dealing with devil?”

Tyler drifted away from the team the evening before they played Russia for the final time, wanting some quiet to think about the game. He didn’t want his only stint at Worlds to end without gold. He found himself dropping down in an empty training room, pushing himself through a slow set of stretches. After loosening up, Tyler flopped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. He let him mind drift, when suddenly a gasp from the next room made him shoot his eyes open. As he tried to shoot up, failing to move an inch, Tyler started to breath deeply, attempting to get through the panic rushing through his veins.

“ _No._ Not _you._ ” 

The same low laugh that had haunted his thoughts during late nights with Jamie and too much whiskey, echoed through the room, “Oh Alex, did you really feel like you had to _cheat_ just to beat Canada?”

There was a sharp stream of Russian, mostly curses. The other voice ignored him, “Please tell me you are aware you will get nothing?”

Alex snarled, “Is this how Canada wins? By dealing with _devil_?”

Tyler closed his eyes. He wasn’t stupid. He had come to accept exactly what had happened with Danny and Jamie. But hearing it actually said aloud sent an entirely new jolt of fear into his stomach.

The same low laugh filled the room, “Oh no,” Tyler remembered the sweet twist of the voice as he repeated what he told Jamie, “We don’t need luck or deals, we’re just _talented_.”

Alex growled out, low and menacing, “I’ll tell hi-,” only to break off into a choking noise.

“You can’t and if you try, I will _break you._ ” 

There was a tense moment, before Alex spoke quietly, “How?”

The other voice snorted, “You know, you’re the first one to ask me that.” 

The man paused, causing Alex to snarl again, “ _Well_?”

“Jagr was tired of it.”

“ _Jagr_? You make deal with Jagr, to get this?”

Another snort echoed through the room, “Oh no. He made a deal with _me_ to take it. Jagr grew a _conscience_ and couldn’t stomach it anyone. But someone has to come when called and this was too good a deal to pass up.”

“What you even get for it? You still get injury?”

Tyler strained to recognize the voice, but nothing was clicking. 

“Besides longevity in the league, despite my injuries? I get to watch you all _beg-_ “ Alex inhaled sharply, hissing only to be cut off by the voice, “I get to watch all of you _fail_ and need to bargain away your futures just for one win.” 

“You are _sick_.”

The other man just laughed again, “Is there anything else you want Ovechkin?”

“I will tell hi-“ Alex’s voice broke out in a shout, before breaking off in a groan as the other man spoke casually.

“You know, ten years isn’t too long of a long time. It wouldn’t be _that_ surprising if your pesky little shoulder injury from 2005 reappeared, now would it?”

Alex snarled, but Tyler could hear him panting through pain, “ _Fuck you_.” 

“Don’t forget that tomorrow. And I hope you enjoy watching my face as we beat you, _without any assistance from me_.” 

Before Alex could reply, Tyler felt the lights pop on and shot up onto his feet. He turned around the corner to find only Alex, sitting heavily on a massage table. Alex looked up and inhaled sharply at the sight of Tyler.

“What do _you_ want, little Canadian?” 

Tyler blinked at the lack of bite behind the words, “Why did you try and _bargain_ with him Ovechkin?”

Alex closed his eyes and tried to speak, but snapped them open as he found himself unable to. After a moment, Alex raised an eyebrow, “You not make deal, so you not know who. But you can hear deals? Interesting.” 

Tyler nodded his head slowly, looking over his shoulder, causing Alex to bark out a laugh.

“He won’t be back. Everyone get one, or so say stories.” 

Tyler cautiously stared at the man, “I don’t-“ He cut himself off, waiting until Alex cocked eyebrow at him once again, “I’ve heard two-well, _three_ deals now. I’ve never-“

Alex snorted, “I surprised _you_ not one who ask for win year you traded.”

Tyler flicked his eyes to his feet and opened his mouth to speak, but Alex just cut him off, “Oh I know _who_ did. Each one knows past deals, cruel trick of him. I just shocked it was not you.” 

An uneasy pause settled over the room, before Tyler stepped forward, “Let me help you to your room Ovechkin.”

Alex hesitated, considering the options, and then nodded, slowly standing. Tyler wrapped an arm around the mans waist, letting Alex lean heavily on him. They walked slowly, both thankful for the late hour to keep questions at a minimum, lost in their own thoughts. By the time they reached the housing, Alex was able to stand on his own feet steadily. He reached out to the door knob, but turned back to speak, startling Tyler, “Not sure why you know it all, but be careful, little Canadian. He is not nice.”

Tyler froze until the door suddenly opened behind them, Nicklas’ face suddenly appearing, worry covering it.

“What the _fuck_ , where have you _been_ Sasha?”

Alex snorted, “Wouldn’t believe if told you.” 

Nicklas turned, scowling at Tyler, “What did he do?”

Tyler opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a tired sounding Alex, “Leave it Nicky.”

Nicklas threw his hands up in the air and turned back into the room, leaving Alex to look fondly after him. 

“Did you do it for him?”

Alex’s eyes snapped back to his, confused, “Nicky is not Russian?”

Tyler shrugged, “All the others I’ve heard have been for uh, partners.”

Alex laughed lowly, “Maybe little for Nicky, but most for me. Benn do for you?”

Tyler shook his head, “Not that way. But I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know what he gave up.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, but simply snorted again, before turning his back on Tyler, “See you tomorrow little Canadian.” 

 

As the final buzzer rang and Team Canada descended on one another, Tyler froze. He turned back to the other side of the ice to see Alex tearing his jersey over his body and meeting his gaze with a hard glare as Tyler realized the dark bruise spreading over his shoulder hadn’t come from a hit. He watched Alex’s face turn into a snarl and glanced backwards to see who he was looking at, but between the shouting and moving bodies Tyler couldn’t track who was looking at the Russian. 

As he pushed back into the group of men, Tyler wasn’t sure if he was relieved or terrified that he had narrowed down the identity of apparently the apparently literal _devil_ down to Team Canada’s roster. As the celebration continued, Tyler felt that thought stay on the edge of his mind as the team corralled into the locker room and alcohol began flowing. He watched each face, trying to gauge any telling look, but was having no success when suddenly a hand settled on his shoulder, making him jump. Tyler turned, surprised to look up at Claude, who was glaring down hard at him.

“Let it go.”

Tyler flushed and dropped his eyes down, “I know more now.”

Claude shook his head, “Don’t chase down that rabbit hole Seguin.” 

Tyler watched Claude look up, fear flickering across his face as he gazed at the group, and nodded.


	4. Desperation for Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler heard him inhale sharply before he began speaking rapidly, “It’s my rookie year, I’m supposed to save the fucking franchise. I was supposed to bring us to playoffs, for the first time in a decade, what else was I going to fucking do?”

Tyler watched the news come in about Manning’s hit on McDavid. The whole hockey world watched as he was taken off the ice in a stretcher, expecting his rookie year to come to an end. When the news came in that it was simply a ‘ _deep bone bruise_ ’  Tyler closed his eyes and pulled out his phone, dialing the number he had snagged during the draft to send ‘advice’.

“McDavid?”

“Uh, Seguin?”

“What’re you doing right now?”

Some shuffling came over the line, followed by “What? I mean, icing my shoulder, but why?”

Tyler took a deep breath, “When did he find you Connor?”

A heavy silence blanketed the conversation, before Connor spoke low, “What do you mean?”

Tyler closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, “Fine. Why did you do it?”

Tyler heard him inhale sharply before he began speaking rapidly, “It’s my rookie year, I’m supposed to save the fucking franchise. I was supposed to bring us to playoffs, for the first time in a _decade_ , what else was I going to fucking do?”

There was a pause, before Connor spoke quietly once more, “What did _you_ do Seguin?”

“Nothing.”

Connor snorted, “I know the deal Tyler, you wouldn’t know unless you have.”

“I don’t- I haven’t. But-“ Tyler froze, not sure if speaking about it would jinx something.

“Wait, what do you mean you haven’t?”

Taking a deep breath, Tyler began speaking in the same quiet tone, “I’ve been stumbling upon them since, fuck, 2012? And- I don’t know why okay? I’ve never-I’ve never like _seen_ him. Or like, I don’t know _who_ he is. I just know why-I’ve seen the bruises-“

Tyler broke off as he took a breath, allowing Connor to speak, “I don’t- I can’t say his name to you for some reason but, just. _Just_ _don’t do it Tyler_.”

Tyler let out a slightly hysterical laugh, “Not on my _life,_ ” He paused for a second, “Well, maybe for Cash and Marshall, but-“

Connor snorted, but sounded calmer as he spoke, “I can’t take it back. And I- I wouldn’t.”

“What did you trade?”

Connor breathed out slowly, “I- _I_ didn’t give anything up- He made the choice Tyler, I didn’t-“

Tyler closed his eyes as he heard Connor choke off a gasp, until the other man’s breathing went back to normal.

“You don’t have to tell me man.”

Connor took in a deep breath, “I think- I think it would help.”

“Okay.”

Connor paused for a long moment, before speaking quieter than he had in the beginning of the call, “I didn’t give anything up. It was, uh, it was Stromer’s idea and he called and _fuck-_ He gave up a couple of years in the NHL and _I didn’t know until he did it_ -“ 

Tyler inhaled sharply, feeling over dramatic, but who the fuck lets their fri-, “Uh, that’s- that’s a lot for a friend to give up dude.” 

Connor was silent long enough that Tyler had to check he hadn’t hung up on him, “He’s not just a- We’ve been- since Juniors.”

Tyler sighed, “I wonder if that has to do with anything,” He heard Connor’s confused noise and continued, “Every fucking player I witness is gay- Well, besides Benny.”

“I’m bi.”

“Connor, I swear to fucking-“ Tyler cut off as he heard the kid break off into a laugh.

“Look kid, I don’t really know why I know. But. If you need to talk to someone besides Strome, lemme know. And tell him he can talk to me.”

There was a pause before Connor spoke quietly, “Thank you.”

With a few more words, they ended the call and Tyler let his head fall back against the sofa again. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing, trying to delve further into this issue, but he didn’t find himself stopping any time soon.

 

Tyler was unsurprised as he woke up to a couple of texts from an unknown number that he quickly deciphered was Dylan.

_Dylan S: connor said you called_

_Dylan S: was it really that obvious_

_Dylan S: is he mad_

_Dylan S: i didn’t have a choice_

_Tyler: he understands dude_

_Dylan S: he deserved it more than me_

Tyler closed his eyes at the text, the desperation clearly coming across the text. He couldn’t help but wonder if this is how these things started, back whenever they did. Desperate people looking for a solution and willing to do anything. 

 


	5. Desperation for a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man looked upwards for a moment, before grinning wide and shrugging, “I can’t keep him from being traded.”
> 
> Tyler scowled, “Why the fuck not? I’ve sat here for over five years watching you bargain away people’s futures.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this was fun

Tyler stood in the empty locker room of the Staples Center, closing his eyes. He wasn’t sure what the fuck he was doing, but he wasn’t about to back out now. Not after he had to ask Danny, who yelled in French and then hung up, ask Alex, who shook him hard enough to make him dizzy and yell at him in Russian before telling him he’d be better off asking Jamie which _no_ , and then finally convince Connor to give him the details to make a deal. Which was stupidly simple, you just had to “think hard enough about it.” Tyler felt more than a little foolish, standing in the center of an empty room in his sweats with his eyes shut, but as he heard the low chuckle fill the room a cold dread curled down his spine.

“I’m surprised it took you this long Seguin.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped open and he finally placed the voice. Clad in a carefully tailed, coal black suit accented by similar black button up shirt open at the collar, Sidney Crosby wore the look of the devil well.

“ _What the fuck?_ ”

Sidney snorted, placing his hands in his pockets, “Are you actually surprised?”

Tyler glared at the man, still in shock, “ _Yes,_ what the _fuck_? _”_  

Sidney just smiled, “Well obviously you already know _how_ , so why are you calling me?”

Tyler stood glaring, arms over his chest, until Sidney impatiently cleared his throat, “Jordie-“

Sidney cut him off, snorting, “So you know about his impending trade to the Blackhawks?”

Tyler narrowed his eyes, “How the fuc- Of course you do.Yes, _that_.”

Grinning wide, Sidney tilted his head to the left, “And what exactly are you wanting from me?”

“Jordie can’t leave.” 

Sidney looked upwards for a moment, before grinning wide and shrugging, “I can’t keep him from being traded.”

Tyler scowled, “Why the fuck not? I’ve sat here for over _five_ years watching you bargain away people’s _futures_.”

Sidney laughed lowly, making Tyler shiver from the chill it sent down his spine once more, “I can’t keep him from being traded, _however_ ,” Sidney paused, “I _can_ keep him from going to the Blackhawks.”

Tyler bristled, “Why the _fuck-_ “ 

Dropping off, Tyler suddenly stepped backwards as the lights dimmed and Sidney leaned forward, “This is the option you get. Now, do you have a specific team you’d want him on?”

Tyler froze, causing Sidney to sigh, “I’ll narrow it down. Anaheim, Calgary, Montreal, or Tampa?”

Mentally running through the teams, Tyler took a deep breath, “Mon- Montreal, but- but what do you want? In return?”

Sidney just chuckled, “I want you to _help me_.”

Tyler blanched, stumbling backwards as Sidney walked towards him until he hit the edge of the bench and sat down heavily, “Why the _fuck_ would I _-_ “

Sidney cut him off by stepping in-between his legs, “Why not? You don’t lose any years in the NHL, you don’t cause your team to lose at another time, and I’ll _even heal your shoulder._ ”

Tyler flinched, aware of the damage on his shoulder and the impending surgery, “I don’t- I can last until the end of the seas- _This isn’t about that_.”

Sidney smirked down at him, “I know. I’m _giving_ you something alongside guiding Jordie’s trade. All you have to do is assist in the deals.” 

“ _Why_? Don’t you get enough?”

“Haven’t you figured out the point of dealing by now Tyler?”

Tyler shivered slightly as Sidney reached out to cup his cheek in his hand, _fuck_ _him and his weird obsession with Sidney Crosby’s hand god damns prior to this, if only he fucking kne-_ Tyler’s thought was cut off as Sidney let his hand grip just slightly tighter.

“They have no bearing on my talent or how successful the team is, but _I_ get more time in the NHL. How do you think Jagr is still going? Besides, I like _helping_ these kids.”

“ _Helping_? Is that what you think you’re doing?”

Sidney glared down at the man, hand still firm, “Brière not dealing would’ve caused his team to miss playoffs and McDavid would’ve lost his rookie year. And Ovechkin-“ Sidney suddenly smirked before continuing, “Dealing with the devil doesn’t always go your way, now does it?”

There was a pause before Tyler groaned, “You did not just make that joke, _oh my god_.”

Sidney snorted, but was cut off by Tyler speaking, “What about Benny?”

Tyler felt himself lean back at the predatory grin Sidney sent back at him, “Why do you think Jordie is being traded?”

“ _You’re lying_.”

Sidney just laughed, “Well, he may not have asked for that _specifically_. But Jordie will eventually make a deal too and learn all about it, there’s nothing like a good Abel and Cane story, eh?”

“You’re fucking sick.”

Sidney cocked his eyebrow, “Sending Jordie to a team that will support and encourage him, making him more than just Jamie Benn’s brother, is sick?”

Tyler cursed mentally, aware of the stigma around the other Benn brother, “Fine. What did Strome get out of his deal?”

“He would’ve been an alright play if he had gone straight in, now he’ll be one hell of a guy when finishes his time.”

Tyler just closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I don’t care anymore, just- Jordie will go to Montreal?”

“And you’ll get your shoulder fixed. Do we have a deal Seguin?”

Tyler opened his eyes, looking up at Sidney’s face, before nodding.

“Right shoulder?”

Tyler closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain and the regret following this _idiotic_ decision. The last thing he heard before the pain was Sidney’s low laugh. 

 

What felt like hours later, Tyler opened his eyes, pulling in a heaving breath.

“Welcome back.”

Tyler looked up and narrowed his eyes at the casual smirk Sidney was sending his way, before standing, “So when does this shit start?”

“Oh, you’ll know.”

Tyler opened his mouth to speak when the lights flickered for a moment, leaving him alone in the room. 

“You’re so fucking dramatic Crosby!” 

Tyler rolled his eyes at the hint of laughter in the back of his mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sidney Crosby is the most dramatic man in the world and this was fun writing.
> 
> I'm working on a sequel but I am unsure if it will be any better than this so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ we'll see


End file.
